


Arms

by GeeYaa



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: 2nd Person, Christina Perri - Arms, I have specifically made the reader character gender ambiguous, Other, So Bear With me, Wolverine x reader fic, X men - Freeform, based on a prompt on tumblr, ilovebuckybarnes, never done an x reader fic before, so its for anyone to read, the first 2 chapters are more a set up to the final one which contains the song part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeYaa/pseuds/GeeYaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by <a href="http://ilovebuckybarnes.tumblr.com/">ilovebuckybarnes</a><a></a> : Can you write me a Wolverine x reader fic based on the song Arms by Christina Perri?</p><p>You never thought it would be him who held your heart, but from that first time he thundered through your life, he had so thoroughly knocked you on your ass time and time again. Watching him interact with the children of the Xavier Institute raised your opinion of him higher than it ever had been. If that were possible. Xavier was right. You might never find exactly what you're looking for - not that you really know what that is anyway, you've been flying blind from the start, you see that now - but  as Logan walks over to you with that attractive smile curling in the corner of his mouth you realise that it didn't really matter if you didn't find it. As long as you're here, finally safe, and among friends like Charles and Logan, you'll be okay.<br/>Logan puts his arms around you, and you're home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you ilovebuckybarnes for this prompt! I've never done an x reader fic before, and the 2nd person threw me somtimes! I hope you all enjoy!

You were eating cold beans from a rusted old can when you first heard the thunderous sound of his gait through the forest. You’d lit a tiny fire, which in retrospect was a colossally stupid idea despite its meagre size, but there was nothing you could do about it now. Cursing, you dropped your food – there was a silver of regret, it had taken you ages to pilfer such a hearty meal – and you crouched in the shadows at the edge of your camp.

Your tail twitched nervously as your mutation reached out to protect you; small, invisible hairs all over your body standing on end to blur you into the background of the forest. It was a useful mutation, yet not as useful as becoming completely invisible. You’d met someone who could do that once. She’d been a happy-go-lucky blonde bimbo who you’d immediately despised. A pity, as she could have been useful to you.

You had only just managed to camouflage yourself when a beast of a man careened into your little hideout. He was _huge._ Easily over 6 foot tall, he towered over your spark of a fire, glaring at its light with a furrowed brow. His chest, covered in a dirty, white tank top, heaved like he was trying to catch his breath, and his bare shoulders shone with sweat. The man searched around the perimeter with narrowed eyes, and thankfully, they passed right over you.

You jumped when the man spoke out into the night. “Come out. I know you’re there. I can smell ya.” You sunk lower into your crouch, hoping he wouldn’t look too closely in your direction and realise the slight anomaly in his depth perception, or notice your shadow, stuck all too obediently at your feet.

The man’s nostril’s flared again, and you realised exactly what he was doing. He was _smelling for you._ And by God, wasn’t that just creepy. He must be a mutant, you thought, because there is no way, despite having not showered in over a week, a human could sniff a person out like a sniffer dog. Although, you mused a little hysterically – to be expected as you never dealt with pressure especially well – there were certainly a few male, teenage mutants back at the compound whose feet could definitely be smelt way into the next state.

 The mutant slowly turned in a circle, crouching into an offensive crouch which could have mirrored yours, and his nostrils flared some more, before he froze. Dread curled cold fingers in your stomach as the man turned to stare directly at you. He squinted in your direction and sniffed again, you could practically see the man’s pupils struggling to focus on your hidden form.

“Come out.” He repeated, holding out a meaty hand, you eyed it warily, “I ain’t gonna hurt ya. You smell young.” He said, as if this clarified exactly why he had his hand thrust in your direction.

You bristled a little, you are not _young_. You haven’t been young since you were prised, kicking and screaming, from your murdered father’s grasp twelve years ago. Your tail lashed threateningly, but you relaxed your camouflage, not caring that this strange man was seeing you completely naked.

Years ago, it may have made you self-conscious to have a stranger look upon your bare form, but you’d learned quickly after escaping the compound that you needed to be prepared to hide yourself at a moment’s notice. You couldn’t do that in clothes.

The man’s gaze didn’t even waver from your face as you appeared, which surprised you a little. The man took no stock in your uncovered groin or any other aspect of your body that people before him had found pleasing, or shocking. The tail being one of them, which was still held high in front of your chest, the razor-sharp edges of its tip ready to strike, should the need arise.

“What’s your name, kid?” You growl, you are _not_ a kid.

“Blur,” you did not give him your real name. For one, it would have been foolish. You knew nothing of this man who had offered his hand to the darkness so easily. For all you knew, he could be the bait of some elaborate trap. It wouldn’t of surprised you if he had; the scientists at the compound had stooped to lower levels to get escaped subjects back before. And Two – you’d forsaken your old name long ago.

“Blur, huh?” He chuckled, dropping his hand when he realised you were not going to take it. “I’m Logan.”

You said nothing.

“Chatty one, aren’t ya?” He laughed again. The sound was just a rumble in his chest, and the smile that accompanied it only a small curl of amusement in the corner of his mouth; but you found that the sound warmed you from the inside. You shut the feeling down immediately, replacing it with a long entrenched mistrust that you had nurtured all your life. “You alone?”

“I don’t see how that has anything to do with you.” Your tone was sharp, and had an undercurrent of _as if I’d tell you_. The smirk came back as the muscle-bound man dropped himself into the space by the fire you had occupied minutes earlier.

“Oh, a smart ass too, lucky me,” he spoke with derision, and it made your hackles rise – the stranger in your space for too long made you edgy, and you found yourself looking for tricks and traps out of your peripheral vision; absolutely refusing to let the man out of your direct line of sight.

“What do you want?” You hiss, getting impatient. You were waiting for the catch, for the man to just _do something_. But he staunchly refused to do anything, the bastard.

“Well, I was just travelling, and I saw a light. Came to investigate. Found you. End of story.” He gingerly picked up your dropped can of beans, scraping out the layer of food which had come in contact with the dirt, then inspecting it for any rogue pieces of the forest floor.

“I find that unlikely,” you say, frustration evident. He snorted lightly, at some unknown joke, before deciding that the half empty can was to his satisfaction. Though instead of eating it himself, which you fully expected him to do, he hands it out for you to take.

You glare at him, irritated that you cannot seem to anticipate what he will do, yet you take your food anyway. You knew you shouldn’t, as who fucking knows what he could have done to the can, but your hungry body betrays your mind, and so you do so against your better judgement.

You don’t eat it. Instead, you stare at him.

Logan smiled at you and pushes up from the ground, dusting off his pants with one hand. You refuse to watch the way it pulls the material tight against his thigh attractively. “I’ll be off then, seein’ as you’re so okay on your own.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but nod warily, watching him saunter towards the edge of your camp and marvelling at how stupid he is to turn his back to you. You consider taking him out, you had the perfect opportunity, but you don’t. You stay your hand, though you can’t figure out why.

“Bye, Blur,” Logan – and since when had he become Logan? You do not get on first name terms with potential enemies for crying out loud – yelled over his shoulder, holding up a hand in a departing wave before breaking into a sprint.

You hold your breath and wait, your grip tight on the tin can in your hand. You wait for Logan to come back, or a trap to spring, but nothing happens.

In fact, you stand up long into the night, ears straining to hear any sound which may alert you to the approach of a foe, but only the silence of the forest greet you.

You do not see Logan again for a very long time.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s the spring of 1975 and you can’t help but bask in the sun which has peaked over the forest edge. The forest was a familiar old friend, yet you can’t help but be grateful for the kindness of Charles Xavier, who welcomed you into the fledgling project which was the new Xavier Institute, seemingly without a second thought. You liked Charles; he was a lethal weapon wrapped up in soft smiles, forever rumpled suit jackets and kind words. Unlike a lot of the other mutants you had met over the years – aside from Logan, but you still had no idea of what to make of that bizarre encounter, even so many years later – he had shown you kindness without asking for anything in return. 

Despite his softness he taught discipline and control with firm guidance, and you were convinced that the school he had set up before war had struck would easily find its way back to the former glory Hank reminisced about.

Yes, you enjoyed your time at the Xavier Institute, but you knew it wasn’t the place for you. You were still searching for yourself, and though The Professor had impressed on you the knowledge that you were always welcome to try and find yourself at the school; you knew you would never find what you were looking for in a classroom. 

Charles had fussed like a mother hen before you left, which was endlessly endearing, clucking about coming back to visit and trying to send you off with mountains of food, cakes and little trinkets. You took as much as you could, not only to appease him, but also because in the back of your mind, you knew you had grown lazy and unpractised at the important things – like surviving – in your time at the school. So you had decided to ration out your supplies until you gained back your skills at living rough in the forest.   
By now, almost two weeks into your old life, you were back into the routines of living wild, and you’d shucked off the clothes Xavier had insisted you wore in front of the children days prior as you headed to the more dangerous areas of the forest. 

Today you found yourself at the edge of a stream, and you stopped to drink and bathe, enjoying the feel of the sun and water against your skin. It was a testament to how much difference a few months had made, that you didn’t realise that you were being watched. 

There was a whooshing past your ear just as you ducked your head underwater which alerted you to the danger which had crept up on you. Startling up out of the water, you spotted a camouflaged military man crouched by a tree stump, holding what you recognised was a tranquiliser gun. 

Panic set in and you flared up the hairs on your skin, despite knowing it would do little use as you waded as fast as you could through the water to reach the other side of the river. You had little time before the soldier finished reloading his gun with another tranq, so you half waded, half lurched through the water until you reached the edge, and scrambled against the muddy edge.

The water and the spring-time dewiness of the ground caused you to slip against the shallow river wall, unable to get a purchase on the ground to pull yourself out. You were a sitting duck.

You gasped as a strong hand gripped your wrist and practically ripped you from the water, pulling you behind the bulk of a familiar, huge body and shielding you from the tranquiliser dart which merely bounced off the back of your saviour. You knew who it was almost instantly. If possible, Logan was wearing the same dirty tank top, and you could hear a low growl rumbling in his chest as you pressed up against him. After a moment, with Logan still holding tight to your wrist, he began to run. You kept up as much as you can, but you could tell that this wasn’t even close to how fast he would be running without you holding him back. 

You’re not quite why you do it, but you twist out of his hold and he staggers to a stop, looking at you as if you’ve just grown a second head right in front of his eyes. “What the hell are ya doing? Come on!” He growls, reaching for your wrist again. You dodge him, skittering out of his reach like a frightened kitten, though you are not afraid of the man.  
Maybe you’ve been spending too much time with Charles, you wonder, but it doesn’t change the fact that this brusque, rough man scares you about as much as a rabbit would. A complete one-eighty from the last time the two of you met, but it doesn’t seem to be a conversation either of you are willing to have right now.  
“Let me go,” you hiss, as he reaches for you yet again.

“I swear to God, Blur, I will fucking drag you by your tail,” he snarls, his eyes scanning the trees in search of the tranq sniper.

“And why are you so insistent I come with you?” You demand, placing your hands on your hips, forgetting momentarily about the enemy lurking within your forest. You realise you weren’t as capable of returning to your old life as you thought you were. The thought sits as a heavy, disappointing weight in your gut.

Logan’s eyes snap to yours and he watches you carefully, as if you were about to flee at any moment. You’re not, so you wonder why he might think that. Then you remember the circumstances of your last encounter. You had thought about Logan a lot over the years, and to you he’d almost become a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. 

As you grew older, he had begun to represent companionship; a soft place to fall. He was only someone who picked up your beans and made sure they were edible, but to you that was the first unmotivated act of kindness anyone had ever bestowed on you. Logan became something of an enigma in your memories. Not that he knew that.

Which was probably why he was watching you like Charles watched the last cup of tea – like it would disappear in a moment. 

You sigh and relax your stance, returning to his side and gesturing he lead the way. You notice Logan’s surprised eyebrow, but he thankfully doesn’t comment. He doesn’t reach for you again, but starts to jog, his eyes still scanning the horizon. 

You trust him to monitor your situation whilst you let your mind drift off. Without any prodding in that direction, your thoughts settle on the man running next to you, and you find yourself counting the breaths he takes as he runs without realising. Somehow, everything about the man sung to you; the steady thud of his feet on the ground and the whisper of his breath on the air is a melody which you find your ears enjoy. Your eyes watch him peripherally, and they trail without your command across the broad width of his shoulders, up his strong neck and back down the line of his spine, until your gaze settles in the small of his back, right above the admittedly delicious curve of his backside.   
You snatch your eyes back when you start to feel your body thrum with tension, embarrassed that you let yourself think that way about a perfect stranger. Because that’s what he was. Everything you thought about him were products of your own imagination and fantasy as you transitioned from the young (you could admit it now, Logan had been right, you were young) age of 17 until now, 8 years later. 

Sometimes you almost believed you’d made him up, had Charles not told you otherwise when you’d asked. 

You looked back at your companion again to find him staring at you, nostrils flared as if he’d caught wind of some tantalising scent that he couldn’t quite fathom. You briefly entertained the humiliating notion that perhaps he could smell the heat of your arousal as it clung to your skin, but you disabused yourself of it quickly. One cannot smell arousal. Can they?

Logan’s step faltered for a moment, and then you really do start to worry; Logan seemed so hardy, so sure, that you were almost 100% positive that an external force caused it. But his steady gait picked up quickly, and the man wasn’t even looking at you anymore, so you decide to drop the thought.

You don’t really know why he’s taking you with him, and you know you probably shouldn’t trust him. A lot can change in eight years, especially for mutants. He probably isn’t the person you met all those years ago, despite being almost certain he hasn’t aged a day. And if The Professor liked him then he must be at least okay. Though saying that, Xavier liked Magneto. He didn’t exactly have the best of tastes in your opinion.

If Logan was living just as wild as you were, then you knew that it would be so much easier for him to leave you behind. Logan had no ties to you, yet he’d saved your life, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Eventually, Logan began to slow until you were walking side by side into a small clearing somewhere deep in the woods. You’d left the backpack with your supplies in at the water’s edge when you’d been ambushed, and you mourned their loss somewhat. It had been a reminder that you always had somewhere to go. You briefly entertained the idea of turning back to get it, but you’d been running for at least an hour, and you hadn’t really been paying attention to where you had been going. Trying to find your way back was not an option.

You stopped walking when Logan did, raising an eyebrow at him as he watched you. He watched you for a moment more before huffing a laugh, his smile the same as it was all those years ago. He sat down on the forest floor, patting the dirt beside him. You sink down next to him.

“So blur,” he asks, “last I heard, you were with the good Dr Xavier.”

“Last you heard?” you frown, “since when have you been keeping tabs on me?” Logan laughed and shook his head.

“I keep tabs on Xavier, and you got on his radar, so got on mine.” You huff a laugh, shaking your head. You lean back on your hands, tipping you’re head back to face the tree canopy. Logan is silent beside you. Moments pass before the man next to you shifts, moving to lie in the dirt beside you. 

“So, where are you going?” he asked, his voice rumbling next to your leg.

You shrug, rolling your head on your shoulders to peer down at him lying next to you. “Dunno,” you answer. A comfortable silence permeates the darkening air.  
“You coming with me then?” He asks, pushing to his feet and holding out a hand for you to pull yourself up with. You stare at it for a second before accepting his help.   
“And where are you going?” you echo his question, withdrawing your hand from his grasp and dropping them to your hips in a stern-like gesture. 

“North,” he said, almost offhandedly, sniffing the air. You watch him scan the area, his nostrils flared and his eyes looking further into the distance than your eyes could manage. You figure your best chance is with him for the moment; he helped you before, all those years ago, and he showed no signs of aggression towards you. Besides you know you’d grown complacent in the Professor’s care, so someone to watch your back wouldn’t hurt.

Pursing your lips, you narrow your eyes at him, “was that an invitation to come with you?” 

Logan shrugged, watching you from the corner of his eyes and smirking. “It was whatever you wanted it to be, kiddo.” 

You growl under your breath, trying to keep the façade that you didn’t really need him. So nonchalantly, you shrug. “Fine. But you lead me into trouble…” you threaten, pointing a finger towards him. The man just laughs.

“Alright, keep your tail on,” he chuckles.

**Author's Note:**

> remember the drill, darlings!
> 
> COMMENT/KUDOS/SUBSCRIBE etc ;) 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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